TRELAWNY PARISH, JAMAICA

Scanning the beach:

a sail distends its bubble throat

like a lizard in heat, stray cats

go slow-gait through palms and mimosas

toying with the carcass of a beetle,

sandfleas tick away at my heels

like kamikaze pilots.

                        In the kitchen

Millicent scales red snapper; the silk fish

we’ll eat on the veranda.

I can account for hydra-headed coral,

atomic weights, salmonella poison,

beetles surviving unchanged for centuries,

lemur feet flat as tiny pancakes,

even life in a pocket of RNA.

But as for how all flesh arose

from that slimy web of muck and weed,

how eyes, brains, nerves sprang

from the interface of plankton and mammal,

all I hear is the thunder of water

on a tin sieve. Crash and caterwaul

as waves crack bone off the coral reef:

an orchestrated bribe, perhaps,

nothing less than lunacy.